Psychiatric
by OneInFiveBillion
Summary: What if after the events of House’s Head and Wilson’s Heart House just doesn’t recover? "Looking into his dull grey eyes James Wilson felt nothing but guilt and it was slowly eating him up inside." Post House's Head, Wilson's Heart. Spoilers.


**Authors Note: **I hope you guys like this, it came to me out of no where. I'm not particularly happy with it, especially the ending so…tell me what you think.

Read and Review.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

**Warning: **Spoilers for House's Head and Wilson's Heart.

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Looking into his dull grey eyes James Wilson felt nothing but guilt and it was slowly eating him up inside.

It had been a year since Amber's death and House's subsequent departure as a doctor at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital and Wilson, as time went by, slowly came to terms with his girlfriend's death.

The one thing he couldn't get over however was the guilt that had plagued his mind since the day House had left and it didn't help that he hadn't been to visit him either. Maybe if he had the guilt would have slowly dissipated and he would have come to terms with House's new arrangement.

Now he had finally worked up the courage to visit his once best friend and he was slowly beginning to realise that the guilt would never go away.

He couldn't help but think that maybe he could have prevented this. There was no need for House to end up this way. He could have stopped it. Maybe if he'd just put his grief and anger aside for five minutes he could have helped him. But instead he'd let it all course through him, never letting up for a mere second…

…that was until now.

Cuddy had come to him the other day to tell him that House had been asking for him again. See Cuddy had been visiting House twice a week every week, whether she was on holidays or meant to be working it didn't matter; she always found the time.

This was the first time she had mentioned anything to him about her visits to House. After every visit she would either lock herself in her office until she'd finished crying, screaming or throwing things…which ever she was in the mood to do at that particular time, or she would go out to her car and just sit there for hours listening to the Mick Jagger CD House had given her one year for her birthday.

Wilson guessed that part of his guilt stemmed from the fact that he had been so selfish when Amber had died. He felt he had a right to be selfish when his girlfriend died but he didn't take into account was that Amber wasn't the only one to be lost in the whole situation and he wasn't the only one hurting.

It had all hit Cuddy pretty hard. She had known House the longest so it was safe to say it wasn't the business with Amber that had upset her. No, it was losing House.

Cuddy, through all of her own grief, had tried to be there for him but he had just shoved her away, never even thinking that in a way her trying to comfort him was her way of seeking comfort.

Reaching out across the starch white bed Wilson latched on to House's hand and tried to smile and easy smile to match the one that House was wearing.

"Jimmy." House whispered, a strangely calm and vague expression ever present on his features.

"Yes?" Wilson asked, so new to visiting House that he couldn't even tell whether the man was referring to him or just…letting a word fall from his lips.

House smiled a lazy, easy smile that unnerved Wilson slightly and made him feel like he was being seen through.

"Jimmy." He said again and Wilson realised that this is what Cuddy had meant when she had warned him that House wouldn't be anything like his old self.

"Greg," Wilson said softly, trying to reason with him. "It's me Jimmy. I'm sorry. I've been meaning to visit, really." He tried to continue but couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

Pulling his hand from Wilson's grip House rolled over slightly on the bed and grabbed a jar that was sitting on his bedside table.

"Look Jimmy." He said, holding the jar up and grinning like a five year old does when he's just discovered worms in a mud pile. "I've got jelly beans."

Wilson looked at the empty jar and couldn't help the shudder that ran through him.

"Are you cold Jimmy?" House asked, his voice still so calm and even, nothing like what he used to sound like.

"No Greg, it's alright, I'm fine." He said softly, trying to sound reassuring.

He might not of been cold but James Wilson was definitely very far from being anywhere remotely near 'fine'. But he wouldn't let House know that.

"Have a jelly bean Jimmy," House offered, pushing the empty jar towards Wilson's hand that still lay on the white sheets covering his legs.

Not being able to stand it any longer Wilson pushed himself out of the chair and stumbled towards the door, saying a quick shaky goodbye before hurrying out the door and down the hallway.

As the door closed behind him Wilson let his back rest against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor.

He sat there, head in his hands for what felt like hours, tears steadily pooling in his eyes and tracing well worn paths down his cheeks. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he looked up into the sympathetic brown eyes of the Dean of Medicine.

"I couldn't…" His voice cracked and he let his head drop to his chest, eyes closing tightly as he willed the tears to stay away.

Gently wrapping her hand around his arm she tugged him up off the floor and pulled him into a hug; something that they hadn't done in over a year.

Grabbing his hand she murmured a quiet 'come on' and directed him down the hallway away from the Princeton Plainsboro Psychiatric Ward and the man they both once knew.

**end.**

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**Authors Note: **Hope you all liked it…did it make sense? That's what I'm really not sure of. Please let me know.


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